Por Una Cabeza
by Beregond5
Summary: G1. A sequel of sorts to "Birds In The Sky". Sunstreaker shares a quiet moment with his bondmate


Sunstreaker was filling an energon cube when he heard it. It was a soft, melodic hum, and it was coming from the other room, where Bluestreak was. Feeling curious, Sunstreaker decided to see what his bondmate was up to, so he ventured a peek from the threshold.

Just as he had expected, Bluestreak was sitting at a table in the centre of the room, polishing several metal beams for an order Sideswipe had. That, however, wasn't the strange part. The strange part was that Bluestreak's movements, as he kept polishing the metallic surface, matched the tune he was currently humming.

"What are you doing?" Sunstreaker asked, unable to help himself.

Bluestreak stopped his humming, and Sunstreaker actually thought that it was a shame; the tune was kind of nice. "I think that's obvious," the silver mech answered with a smile. "I'm working."

"Smart-aft," Sunstreaker answered, although his tone was affectionate rather than indignant. "I meant your humming."

Bluestreak looked up at Sunstreaker, his expression apologetic and slightly concerned. "Did it bother you? If it did, I'm sorry but I couldn't help myself; I always like to hear some music whenever I'm working and this sounded as good a time as any, but I can stop if you…"

Sunstreaker shook his head and effectively silenced his bondmate by placing a hand on the silver lip components. "I just wanted to know what song it is," he explained. "It isn't Cybertronian, is it?"

"Oh!" Bluestreak's voice came out slightly muffled, since Sunstreaker still kept his mouth closed. As he realised that, he gently pushed the artist's hand away. "It's a song from Earth. I used to hear it a lot back there, so it's stuck in my memory."

Sunstreaker nodded his understanding. "What's it called?"

Bluestreak chuckled sheepishly. "I… never found out. I guess I should have asked Prowl when I had the chance. It was his favourite song."

Sunstreaker raised an optic ridge and looked at Bluestreak in disbelief. "Prowl listened to music?"

"Yup," the silver mech said.

"_The _Prowl?" Sunstreaker insisted.

"Yes. Just because he took his job seriously, it didn't mean that he didn't enjoy other things in life," Bluestreak replied patiently. "Did you know that he could even dance?"

Now that had Sunstreaker downright sceptical. "Prowl and dancing? Heh, sorry Bluestreak, but that just doesn't compute."

"Because you haven't ever seen him," Bluestreak said.

"And you have?"

"I sure have," Bluestreak answered. "In fact, he taught me."

Sunstreaker deemed that today was a day filled with surprises. "You know how to dance?"

"Well, yeah," Bluestreak said. "Don't you?"

The artist shrugged. "Not really. Seems like a waste of time to me."

Bluestreak frowned quite visibly at that. "Why?"

"What's the point?" Sunstreaker said. "You only end up with your legs kicked and your feet stepped on."

"I take it that's what's happened to you?" Bluestreak asked, amused.

"It's not funny," Sunstreaker grumbled, crossing his arms. "Do you realise how many coats of paint I needed to cover such scratches and dents?"

"Plenty, I'll bet," Bluestreak answered. And yet, Sunstreaker could tell that his bondmate was contemplating on something. Before the artist could determine what that something was, Bluestreak had placed the cloth and the metal beam aside and stood up.

"What…?" Sunstreaker started, but then he saw Bluestreak extending a hand in his direction. As realisation caught up with him, he looked at Bluestreak quite dubiously. "You're kidding me."

"No," Bluestreak said with a smile. "Now come on."

"I've already told you, I can't dance," Sunstreaker pointed out.

"I heard you," Bluestreak said. "Now will you give me your hand?"

"Yes, Sir," Sunstreaker replied, huffing slightly. At times like these, Bluestreak sounded too much like Prowl. "But don't say I didn't warn you after the imminent catastrophe is over."

"I won't," Bluestreak promised and took Sunstreaker's hand in his. "Place your other hand on my right arm."

Sunstreaker did, yellow fingers gripping his bondmate's arm tightly. Bluestreak, however, chuckled.

"I'm not a Decepticon, Sunstreaker. Just rest your arm against mine, your fingertips touching the plating."

"We're off to a good start," Sunstreaker muttered. Nevertheless, he did as Bluestreak told him, while white fingers touched gently at his side, holding him close to the silver mech.

"Keep your optics on my chest-plate, on the spot where my spark is," Bluestreak instructed. "Feel the spark pulsating in time with yours, and both of them rhythmically to the music."

Sunstreaker wanted to say that this was getting ridiculous. At that moment, though, Bluestreak's soft humming filled the room. The slow, yet uplifting tune reverberated through his bondmate's chest-plate, surged into his own chassis, and Sunstreaker caught himself swaying gently.

"That's it," Bluestreak said in a gentle whisper, "Now we're going to have a walk in the room, one step at a time but together as one. Okay?"

Sunstreaker nodded, and both mechs started moving. The artist kept his optics on his bondmate's spark, allowing himself to be guided, and time became unimportant. They simply danced on, oblivious to everything but each other's presence, trust and understanding connecting them.

And Sunstreaker didn't set a foot wrong.

**The End**

_A/n: Yes, I was watching Scent Of A Woman while writing this. Why do you ask? :-p_


End file.
